


Rubble

by frozenCinders



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Demolition Man Kimblee, Director Archer, M/M, Modern AU, Movies AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 01:18:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14124999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frozenCinders/pseuds/frozenCinders
Summary: When Archer agreed to practical effects for the movie, he expected a team of professionals and a load of medics. The medics he got right, but only one man arrived to rig the abandoned hospital with explosives. When Archer had introduced himself, the man scanned him with his eyes for a moment."You single?" was the first thing out of his mouth.





	Rubble

The actors are asking Kimblee about his work. They seem to be getting along. Good, it would be disastrously stressful if the demolition man hated the crew. Archer sips his coffee; his break is almost over and it'll be time to get the shot Kimblee is here for soon.

Kimblee saunters over and Archer pretends not to see him coming, looking up from his coffee only as soon as Kimblee reaches him.

"You just about ready?" he asks, and Archer fully expected him to ask something more like "You doing anything after this?"

"Just about," Archer echoes. He still hasn't answered Kimblee's first question, having ignored it with a polite chuckle and a handshake, so maybe that deterred him.

Calling the break over, Archer directs everyone to their positions and gets the cameras rolling. He's about ready to call action when Kimblee nudges him, suddenly at his side.

"You wanna be the one to press the button?" he asks, and he gingerly places the remote in Archer's hand and all of a sudden, he's overwhelmed.

Archer swallows, can't think of a response, can't get his thoughts to come back to him. He just stares at the building, his finger over the button, not thinking, but fully aware of everything that could go wrong.

"Hey, director," a cameraman to his left calls, "kinda wasting space on the hard drive, here."

This snaps Archer out of his reverie.

"Right," he says, passing the remote back to Kimblee without looking at him. "Action."

The actors do their thing, getting into a convincingly heated argument over how one fucked up and let a serial bomber escape because his heart's too soft and he allowed him half an hour to visit his mother in the hospital. Their stunt doubles are running towards the building- not actually getting too close, they're quite a safe distance away, and-

Adrenaline seizes Archer's body as the building explodes. It's incredibly loud, and extremely surreal. Someone touches him- scares the _absolute shit_  out of him- and his attention is only wrenched from the explosion long enough to notice that it's Kimblee's hand over his heart. Aside from that glance, he doesn't pay him any mind.

The building falling apart seems to take both more and less time than Archer would have wanted. Expected, he means. Either way, it's done now, but his heart is still hammering and he tears his eyes away again to see Kimblee smiling at him, toothy and feral.

A different cameraman than earlier calls for Archer and he remembers where he is and what he's doing.

"Cut," he says, barely loud enough for the nearest crew members to hear him. They repeat it for him, passing it around the area.

"One of the stunt doubles, uh, covered his ears when the explosion went off. Then just kinda-" He lets the footage speak for him, rolling back to where he quickly, albeit awkwardly, returns to mimicking his double's stance.

"That's fine, we won't use that shot," Archer says, almost beginning to calm down. Being in Kimblee's proximity definitely made the problem worse. Now that he's a few good paces away, maybe- or he can walk right on over.

"Exciting, isn't it?" Kimblee asks, and Archer can't tell if it's rhetorical.

"It's... I've never experienced anything like it," Archer answers anyway.

"Michael Bay knows what's up, huh?" Kimblee jokes, and Archer as a director would have expected an exit there, but he stays.

He's being called over to another camera to review more footage and Kimblee follows him again. As he's watching a replay of the explosion, it feels like he's actually being grabbed this time.

Oh, those are Kimblee's hands on his sides. He presses his face into the crook of Archer's neck from behind and Archer hopes to god nobody is paying attention to this. He should really throw him off soon so people don't suspect anything. But it seems oddly comfortable.

"Recordings don't do it justice," Kimblee says lowly against his skin.

"You're right," Archer agrees, taking the time to unwrap Kimblee from him now.

"Dinner tonight?" he asks as he's being removed without much of a fight. Archer pauses, a hand still around Kimblee's wrist. Kimblee asking him out should have been massively predictable, but somehow, Archer didn't see it coming. He looks around the set and tries more than once to respond.

"Look, just... talk to me after work," he gives, the lightest flush dusting his face at the ridiculousness of the situation. Since when is he so easy? Then again, it's been a while.

Kimblee, satisfied, smiles at him and finally walks away.

It becomes difficult to focus for the rest of the shoot. Partially because of the lingering excitement from the explosion, but primarily because Archer can't stop feeling Kimblee staring at him. The odd part is, he'll look and see Kimblee is entirely distracted by something or someone else, but he'll still feel his eyes on him anyway, somehow. Unless he's misinterpreting the feeling- or just being paranoid.

When they're finally wrapping up and sending everyone home for the day, Archer can't find Kimblee. He asks if he went home already but nobody seems to know. Then he looks over to the demolished building and sees someone in the distance.

Archer has to admit, he knows nothing about big explosions like this. Is there any risk of aftershocks? Is Kimblee certain every explosive has already gone off? Despite planning to ask him about health and safety concerns, Archer can't seem to find his voice when he approaches the rubble.

It's still so surreal...

"It is, isn't it?" Kimblee says, confusing Archer for a moment.

"Oh, I... did I say that out loud?" he asks, and Kimblee smiles at him.

"It's my passion in life. No matter how many times I see it- no matter how many times I _hear_  it, it's always the best thing that's ever happened to me."

Archer's not sure he understands, but he doesn't ask him to elaborate. The adrenaline wanted to trigger his fight or flight instinct, but Archer, as most normal people would, leaned more towards flight. He has the strangest feeling that Kimblee leans towards fight.

"People tell me I'm way too into it but I passed my psych test so, what can they do about it?"

"As long as you only do it in controlled, extremely legal situations, you should be fine," Archer muses, walking forward to examine the rubble. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kimblee turn around to check behind them.

"Everyone's off for the day, huh?"

"So it would seem," Archer says, as if he's not the person who sent them home.

"We're all alone."

He sees where Kimblee is going with this and his heart beats faster. He's a professional; if someone were to catch them, who knows what it could do to his reputation, to his career? Why is that the only thing he's worried about? He doesn't want to say no and it's starting to concern him. Kimblee is slowly closing the space between them, stopping at his side to rest his chin on Archer's shoulder.

"Wanna skip dinner?" Kimblee asks, and Archer swallows, kisses his self control goodbye, and turns to face him.

When he leans in, it's slow and a little awkward, he's only getting more flustered by the minute, but Kimblee closes the gap for him at a much smoother pace. He pulls Kimblee closer by his hips, just out of habit, and he's surprised to find he's already hard. Then he wonders why that would ever surprise him.

Kimblee starts dragging him down, laying down on a shallow pile of rubble while Archer kneels in front of him. God, that can't be comfortable, it certainly isn't for Archer's knees, but he can't imagine it's not some kind of fetish for him.

"Fuck me like this," he says, all but confirming Archer's assumption.

Archer doesn't have to find his words to answer him, just kisses him again, tasting some kind of meat with entirely too much spice. It's convenient how strong it is; guaranteed to imprint itself into Archer's memory. If he were to encounter whatever Kimblee had been snacking on, he would certainly remember the taste lingering on his lips.

Time appears to be distorting again- everything's too fast, too slow. Kimblee's hand traveling up Archer's shirt only to start unbuttoning its way down, his other hand pulling at his belt, his teeth clicking against Archer's; it's all fuzzy and impossible to measure. When Archer's shirt is fully undone and Kimblee dedicates both hands to removing the belt, Archer looks into Kimblee's eyes and time falls back into place and everything feels right.

The way Kimblee goes at him, Archer keeps expecting him to try to swap their positions. He doesn't though, merely pulls Archer down on top of him, closer and closer, like he wants them to meld into one. Archer realizes, now that his cock is bare, that he's just as hard as Kimblee and wonders how long that's been the case.

Kimblee purrs at him, obviously satisfied, maybe in more than one aspect. Either way, those fingers that brought this entire building down to the ground are wrapped around his cock and Archer worries for just a second that he might not last long if he keeps thinking like that.

But Kimblee releases him soon enough to focus on himself, pulling a small tube out of his pocket. He unhooks his suspenders- Archer vaguely registers the articles as cute- and starts undressing. Archer would have expected him to take his pants off and get straight to it, but it seems he wants to get as many splinters as possible.

He doesn't bother urging Archer to follow suit, just hurries up and starts working himself open. Archer stares, practically already feeling his cock where Kimblee's fingers are. He arches his back- digs the back of his head into the rubble, surely- and sighs with a slight voice under it.

"These are always my favorite circumstances," he says, a little cryptically. Does he always convince directors to fuck him in rubble from exploded buildings?

"Always directors?" Archer asks for curiosity's sake, not like it really makes a difference.

"Nah, I usually don't chance it with directors. It's easier to get a no from an actor and still be able to work on set. Always figured I'd get kicked off for flirting with the director."

"So, what? Haven't slept with Michael Bay yet after all?"

Kimblee laughs; it's casual, as if he's not in the middle of a sexual act.

"Someday. But I find you more attractive anyway."

"You know, I've never looked him up. Not sure how flattered I should be," Archer jokes- the second one he's made since Kimblee started this little show. Maybe it's just his natural reaction to such an unusual and still very much exciting situation.

Kimblee's ready for him sooner than he expected and now he's repositioning, trying to pull Archer closer with his legs. Archer obliges, leaning over him. He tries to say something, but Kimblee cuts him off with a kiss.

"Come on. Just fuck me," he urges, gently lying back down. Archer stares again, taking in every detail of Kimblee's face as he enters him, trying to keep his mind off of thoughts of aftercare involving lacerations on Kimblee's back. Additional thoughts of him lying face down on Archer's bed, waiting for a back massage, have to be set aside for the moment as well. Christ, why does he have to be such a pamperer in the bedroom?

He notices Kimblee's face change from soft satisfaction to confused, slight annoyance at his inactivity. So he moves and Kimblee actually gasps and now his face is back to bliss.

The idea of being caught only vaguely occurs to him, but Archer can't bring himself to care much. Where he'd normally be worried about his reputation, this stranger looking for a good (if odd) time somehow overrides his first instincts. That, and it feels too tremendously good for him to be able to stop at this point. He's so tight yet somehow pliant, overly enthused to be in the situation he's in.

Now he's reaching up, hooking his arms around Archer's neck and pulling him down to kiss him again. Archer wants to roam, wants to see if he can get away with leaving love bites all over Kimblee's neck and collarbones and shoulders and thighs and- fuck, _everywhere_. He's never fallen so hard so fast and he wishes he had time to be confused about it but all that matters right now is doing whatever Kimblee asks, whatever he whispers against Archer's lips. He'll fuck him to his heart's content and, god help him, he _knows_  he's going to want more. Archer doesn't do one night stands.

It's somehow easier to fuck him when he's planning to set aside time during his next week at the very least to continue pursuing something of substance with him. Kimblee seems like he doesn't give a shit about romance and subtlety and the like; all but proven by their current situation. But as nice as this is, as tight and loud as _he_  is, he cannot possibly say no to adding more passion to the mix. Who knows, maybe Kimblee will find he prefers a soft bed with a few rose petals strewn about rather than rough, uneven rubble that really must be rubbing his back raw by now.

Kimblee gives him a light slap on the cheek and a somewhat serious look.

"Stop thinking," he says, then closes his eyes and goes back to enjoying the moment.

Archer takes his advice, speeding his pace while he's at it as a thank you gift. He focuses entirely now on the sounds Kimblee's making, on the way his hands desperately roam Archer's back with no idea of what to do with themselves, the way he keeps tilting his head back as far as it'll go, exposing his neck. It moves as he swallows and Archer leans in, giving him a warning kiss before biting him. Kimblee doesn't mind at all, and Archer has no doubt by now that he's a masochist.

Kimblee's voice starts breaking like he's coming apart, his limbs tightly wrapped around Archer as if he'll fall to his death if he lets go. He's whispering borderline incoherent filth into Archer's ear, silenced only with another kiss. The way he kisses back is so hungry, so _starved_ , and Archer almost laments approaching his edge because that means he has to stop soon and god, he really doesn't want to.

When Archer reaches down to stroke him, Kimblee voices a gasp followed by "fuck" and a keening whine as he comes. Kimblee is holding him way too tightly for Archer to pull out before following suit, if he'd even wanted to. As he's filled, Kimblee is still whispering praise and desires in a mantra, coming down off his high as slow as can be.

As the lust fades from him, Archer more than notices the discomfort in his knees. He pries Kimblee's limbs off of him and pulls out and away, opting to sit down and watch him. His face is beautifully calm; satisfied.

"What now?" Archer asks. Kimblee opens his eyes to look at him. He looks around and shrugs.

"What do you want to happen next?" he asks in return. Archer tries to think of what he can say that won't require him to swallow his pride.

"Are you still up for dinner?"


End file.
